This post is about a few things, but mostly it’s about my mother. Before I start this, you have to know that I love her… she’s always there for me and she really is a great person. She’s strong, independent and she’s been through a ton in her life. However, just like all moms do, sometimes she drives me crazy; she tends to be kind of judgemental and even hypocritical at times. Bare with me.
1. RAP MUSIC. I was brought up listening to mostly country music because my mom is from the country and I was born there before moving to a more suburban town. I also spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s house as a child since both of my parents work, which is in our hometown. Anyways, in about sixth grade I started listening to something other than rock and country- rap. You know, in this generation just about everyone listens to rap a little bit… that’s what’s popular. It’s like my grandparent’s and Elivis or my dad and Michael Jackson. My mom makes a huge deal out of it though, she’s always bitching about how inappropriate it is for me to hear words like the “F-bomb” as she calls it. The thing that irritates me so greatly about those particular comments isn’t the fact that she’s watching out for what I listen to or even that she doesn’t understand the fact that I hear and say that word all day at school… it’s that she herself says it all the time in my presence. Of course, if I were to say that to her the mostly likely response would be one I hear on a daily basis, “Don’t say always or never. I don’t ALWAYS say anything, occasionally I do.” Well, Big Sean doesn’t ALWAYS say the F-word. So chill.
2. FRIENDS. Today my mom said to me, “I don’t know that I really like him.” About a guy that I’m becoming friends with again after we drifted apart. I almost laughed, it took a lot to hold it back. Want to know why? I’d be happy to explain it to you; I’m a senior in high school which means in a few short months I’ll be off to college. So do I actually care which of my friends she likes or dislikes? No. Not one bit. Sorry, but I’m not five years old… I don’t need her to hold my hand with every decision I make. Life just doesn’t work like that. I doubt that if my grandma said, “Melissa, I just don’t like your friends.” My mom would change anything about her life. It’s not her life, he isn’t her friend.
3. DATING. It’s isn’t often that I get to actually like someone without my mom making some infuriating comment. For example: He’s too short for you. Excuse me? Shouldn’t her job be to tell me that regardless of something shallow like height, if someone treats me well I should be with them? There’s the one guy that’s liked me for years. He’s tall, athletic, and he’s pretty hot… but he’s an asshole. My mom loves him. Really? I bring all of these super sweethearts over and I get bullshit responses about their height or, in the case of my most recent ex, his ankles are awkwardly thick. What? This boy brought me food when I was sick, stayed by my side through losing an entire group of friends, always let me vent to him, held my hand, told me he loved me in front of everyone, made me feel important… he was everything to me… but he has weird ankles so… BYE.
4. RUDE COMMENTS. Is it necessary to tell your daughter that when she wears hats she looks like a hoodlum? No. Unless of course she actually looks like a hoodlum, which she doesn’t. Also, do you need to tell your daughter that she must be a “mean girl” every time she tells you a funny story about something that happened at school? The answer is… NO! And another thing? When I was 15 years old, I kid you not, I tried on a pair of skinny jeans. I was so happy to finally have found some cute ones and I thought I looked great! Then my mom just had to say, “Do you really need to have your pants half way up your ass? Your dad let’s you dress like a slut..” WTF. I repeat I am not kidding. Why would you say that to your FIFTEEN year old daughter?! Just… why?!
5. DON’T IGNORE ME. I’ve had multiple friends say to me, “Sydney, why is it that you always start to say something and your mom pretends she doesn’t hear you or just starts talking about something else?” The answer to this question may never be found. I’ve tried to talk to her about it but she always gets angry with me and claims that I’m lying. Why would I lie about something like that? Oh well. Usually I just start my sentence and then pretend I was never speaking; it’s much easier that way.
6. HYPOCRITICAL STORY TELLING. You come from school, you put down your books and take a seat after a wonderful day at school that had you laughing until you literally cried. Obviously, you have the need to tell someone how wonderful your days is and recap all of the funny things you and your friends said, so you start to tell your mom all about it. You’re talking, laughing, and then laughing some more; it’s all you can do to refrain from your laughter to finish your hilarity. Then, when you’re half way through the story you say, “Then Mary said-” and she stops you. “I don’t know Mary.” She says, which makes you completely silent. What? You think, just starring at her. “I don’t know her… why do you always tell me stories about these people I don’t even know?”
Two days later. (If you didn’t read that in the Spongebob moterator voice, we can’t be friends).You’re sitting at the dinner table and your mom, who works at a hospital, begins telling you all about how funny this one nurse she works with is. Naturally, she’s geek’d, laughing and telling you this story like it’s the best thing since chips in a can. Then you say, “I don’t know Brenda.” and she looks at you with nothing but pure anger in her eyes. “You met her, I’m sure you did.” But you know for a fact that you’ve never ever heard of this woman before so, largely to prove a point, you stand your ground. “I’m sure you have. That’s not even the point, it doesn’t matter who was there, it was funny.” And, thus, your point from two days prior has been proven. However, there’s nothing you can say to tell her what you’ve realized.
Okay. I’m officially done with this rant. Again, I love my mom dearly, I’d do just about anything for her… there are just some things that make me want to lock myself in my room with loud music to ignore her existence for a few hours. NBD.